Moribund Magnolia
by E.J. Cady
Summary: Family values decay as society's gates usher abominations like vampires, werewolves, unclean humans, and more into their homes with propaganda and mainstream devices. Though, defiant against all the insanity of mainstreaming a Louisiana resistance seeks to restore a utopia of peace and love by first using hate to eradicate the threats to a decent civilization.
1. Chapter 1

Bud Dearborne hated demons, faggots, dykes, vampires, werewolves, fairies, hoity toity northerners, and self righteous southerners. Everything on the spectrum that was different than his pasty skin and conservative world view he hated. Hatred ran deep in his family from his father beating his mother every night for one indiscretion with a vampire to his father's head being ripped off in front of him by a bearded demon that took his mother away in the middle of the night. He was twelve then and old enough to know the difference between right and wrong as he took his dead father's side. His mother was a whore then and she would forever be one in his eyes. Now, at thirty three for most of his life he lived in Bon Temp a small narrow minded town he began to call home when his uncle, on his father's side, adopted him raising him into the bigot he was today. That's what they liked to call him, but he was a crusader for all things that weren't supernatural or superficial. His long bear, red scraggily hair, and his beer belly were all part of a personal protest against society's shallow ideals on beauty. They could all kiss his ass.

When he put down his first supernatural he knew that he was meant for greater things. A small town boy with his history, his roots, his ambition to create order in a world of chaos—this was his duty. The vampire was attacking an innocent girl. He had her pinned against a wall outside of a bar he usually frequented. There was a small crowd surrounding them at a safe distance. Two sheets to the wind he sobered quickly growing angry no one was helping and even angrier that the vampire had the audacity to think that no one would do anything about it. One on one in his conditions there wasn't much he could do. With shaking hands unsure about his plan to help he put one foot in front of the other until they made it to his car where he caressed his grill. It was made of silver. When he started the ignition he contemplated driving away but the vampire had let go now and the girl was slumped on the brick sliding to ground half conscious with her blood still warm staining his mouth.

That night when he killed his first supernatural by his own accounts he felt anger rush through him, later on he would call it the spirit, to appeal to a broader audience when recruiting. Though, he'd lived with anger long enough to make the sensation unmistakable.

"Die demon die," he whispered putting on his seatbelt on the lookout for his opening.

The crowd of people part miraculously getting out of his way as he pushed his foot hard down on the accelerator speeding towards the smiling vampire. He didn't move opening his arms welcoming Bud's 4x4 with open arms. The drunken man smiled pushing his truck until it impact with the beast and then the wall behind him.

Eye witness accounts say he wasn't out for more than a few minutes. No one moved to help him because they were all in shock. When he woke he raised his head from the steering wheel. Blood dripped onto his jeans. Frowning he touched his head for the source examining the red coating his fingers from a gash above his eye.

"Shit," he breathed staring at it. For a moment he forgot where he was and what he was doing until he heard the shrill curses of vampire. Bud smelled burning flesh. A satisfied smiled warmed his face when he saw beyond the mess he made of his car the vampire stuck and in pain.

He went into his truck as a loud mouthed drunk who told the world his issues about how it was going to hell never really doing anything about it except for shooting hateful glares or words to whomever he didn't like. Pushing his door open he exited a legend in the making. Pulling a machete from behind his seat he basked in winning before he cut that nameless vampire's head off.

Word spread quickly and in one unassuming night he became enemy and hero and his ordinary life was no longer ordinary. He began recruiting though most people sought him out the man who wasn't afraid of this super species who for the longest time had entertained them in folklore and books and movies. He called his regime the Hawks reliving his football days as a running back for their small Louisiana high school.

He had come a long way from being a regular at a bar with no ambition to a leader, a hero, a voice for the people. And he never let it get to his head insisting everyone call him Bud. They were all the same him and his followers just trying to make it in a world that just getting smaller and smaller from the supernatural infestation. For the longest time it felt like they didn't have much of a chance to make a dent in their numbers. Until a vampire surrendered himself to their ranks, a strong vampire that didn't take much effort to restrain because Bud supposed on some level he knew that his unnaturalness didn't was an abomination.

"Godric asked for you," Bud was pulled from his thoughts when his second Phillip, a tall rotund man, they'd come to expect shouldering a rifle wherever he went.

Chewing on his bacon the older man nodded his head turning back to his breakfast. No, supernatural summoned him. He'd make time for the vampire when he was done his rounds. His fraction made a home at his family bar to train and live openly and freely hating and conspiring against demon forces. He built a sanctuary surrounded by grass and trees with small compounds that catered to the soldiers and their families. Everyone existed to have a part in this war. No child went without training on firearms and explosives and women were given a specific task to care for the needs of the entire community.

Bud hated the word cult. They were an army a resistance against the tyranny of anyone who wanted to push their open minded beliefs on them when they had the god given right to hate and kill if they felt threatened.

"You want some eggs?" the cook holding a pan ready if Bud wanted more.

The leader shook his head wiping his mouth with a napkin and leaving his dishes to be cleaned up after him, "no thank you." He gave her a smile.

His first order of business was to check on the children. Most had been taken out of the public schools so their minds wouldn't be tainted by the kids whose parents preached tolerance. They were basically sheep going along with the government who were probably using vampires in top secret projects that catered to their political goals without the American public in mind. It made him sick to his stomach to think about it as he descended the steps of his farmhouse to the barn renovated into a school. They were lucky to have at least borrowed some teachers from the school who didn't mind relieving the sugar coated history of America and tell young minds the truth.

"American's have a long history of being underestimated the Civil War a great victory for us against a large intimidating power," Pamela stopped her lesson to acknowledge their leader. She pushed up her red rimmed glasses pressing the palm of her right hand against the hairs on her bun to make sure they were in place. "Children," she announced, "pay your respects," she gushed to their fearless leader who made his way through the benches that surrounded Pam in a circle of enraptured minds.

"No , no no," he held his hands up to stop the teacher from gushing fighting his embarrassment.

She was his favorite, a tall glass of water with a brain to boot. Pam was popular amongst the children and men and her sunny disposition endeared some of the women who weren't intimidated by her presence. "Continue," he encouraged her taking a seat in the front with the smaller children looking as enamored as they were when she continued her lesson on the resilience of the human spirit.

She wore a pink sweater rolled up to her forearms with a white blouse and a matching pink skirt that ended passed her knees. She was a really lady in Bud's eyes the epitome of a perfect housewife with the presence of mind to have self respect for herself. He loved watching her. It was one of the main reasons he made a point to come to the school when he knew it was time for a history lesson. At times if felt like he was listening to an impassioned speech and then she would corroborate it with a proud historical moment. In his opinion the lesson ended all too soon for his tastes, but he was happy to have her to himself when questions about the lesson were answered and the last straggler disappeared with one last look for his adolescent daydreams.

"What do I owe this visit?" Pam asked as she cleaned the chalk board.

When she didn't get an answer she turned her body partially to her fearless leader, "Mr. Dearborne."

"Bud," he rushed out dragging his eyes from his boots, "how many time I got to tell you to call me that?" he rubbed the back of his neck.

Pam shrugged, "you are an authority Bud and I only mean to give you the respect you deserve," she reasoned sweetly.

"Well I ain't nothing but a man with a simple name that from here on I expect you to use."

Pam nodded indulgently.

"Try it out," then older man insisted, "It's pretty easy child's play for a think tank like yourself."

Pam dipped her head and turned to her board again cleaning a spot she'd already erased Bud noticed. He liked the affect he had on her, "I done embarrassed you I'm sorry."

"No," she put away the eraser and began to collect her satchel, "I'm…thank you Bud," she stated.

"Why I ain't done nothing to deserve it."

"For having the courage to build this and letting me be part of it."

"You are the one doing us a favor," he rushed knowing that most of their support came from volunteers and donations. "I was wondering if you were going to the picnic Saturday?"

"Yes," Pam nodded holding her satchel with both hands giving him a demure picture that seemed to be missing something vital, a ring.

"So am I," he stated proudly.

"Of course you are it's in your honor," she reminded him.

He nodded foolishly, "yea I know. I don't know why they'd want to do something like that."

Pam reached out to the shoulder of his green and gray plaid shirt retrieving a straw of hay, "I do," she said meaningfully pleased to see him blush.

Deciding that it was now or never as he hooked his fingers in his belt unable to meet her eyes, he was surprised he could keep his head up. "The only honor I'm interested in is having you accompany me if that's alright with you."

Pam's mouth parted slightly in shock, "you have your pick, Bud," she said his name deliberately, "you sure you want to take me?"

Pam was a fairly new member. A rose that everyone wanted to touch and be around just to inhale her, but no one dared to make a move because it was clear their leader had his sights on her. He was taking his time because he was also a warm blooded man with insecurities heightened by the presence of a beautiful woman. And he was self aware to know that outside of his station in their small resistance he didn't have much to offer a woman especially not one as enchanting as Pamela De Beaufort. He decided this morning upon realizing he was building an empire that while he had loyalty and love and he wanted more, a warm body and a smile to share this all with. He went a long way with his hatred but there were times he wondered if there was more to it after each kill.

"I want you," his tone was firm, "to be on my arm, no one else."

"Very well," she swallowed nervously, "I accept."

"Really?" Pam giggled and he straightened up bottling his unchecked excitement, "I mean good. I'll pick you up at y our home around eight?"

"I'm looking forward to it."


	2. Chapter 2

Godric was all evil or that was what they were told. When the vampires came out of hiding they were willing to coexist, that is, they propagandized they were. But, eventually when the dust settled from shock and wives tales no longer prevailed and the truth about vampires came to light people were still scared. How could they suddenly relieve themselves of fear for monsters television, books, folklore insisted they feel. Tara wondered that in dark in the dungeon where she heard vampires whispering to her to free them. The dungeons were cement cells that held their prisoners with silver chains. It was one of the loneliest jobs in the compound, but she didn't mind. No one wanted her job. They were afraid the whispers were spells and the others feared enchantments. For six months she'd been in the shadows on vampire duty armed with a shot gun and a pistol in her holster. As a former soldier Bud recruited Tara specifically for her military background. And the dark skinned woman didn't mind. She was taken care of and didn't require much, but unlike most of the other people that came to the compound she couldn't say that she was a zealot for their cause. If she were honest, which she was in her own confidence, she was there because she had no other place to be.

"Tara," Godric called her. She didn't talk to the vampires, but through a series of events and realizing she didn't mind his conversation they began a rapport. No one else knew since it would have been frowned upon and punishable by banishment or the more violent inhabitants preferred more traditional reprimands, like stoning.

"Yea," she called from the other side of the door with her back to the wall.

"Did you send my request?"

"Bud should have gotten it by now, he's probably just taking his time," she lowered her head shifting dirt with her foot.

"The hatred he carries for us, it too much hatred for one man to have with one lifetime to live."

"Some people are born to hate—it's all they know—they're not going to let it go when one reasonable vampire shows up at his doorstep waving the white flag."

"You think I am naïve."

"I think you've lived a long time and you're tired. Maybe too tired to see that Bud's a lost cause and he ain't ever going to change just cause this what he's built his life around. How can he justify all these people here if you're not locked up here?"

"I can only hope our talks help."

Tara considered his hope and shrugged it away kicking a rock because she knew that their talks weren't as poignant for Bud as Godric would have them be. The young looking vampire talked slowly and clearly, not to patronize, but to make sure his point was understood. Bud on the other hand slowed his words and sometimes it was lost in the drawl of his accent and he didn't worry about cleaning it up because whomever didn't hear it the first time were the idiots in his opinion. Tara knew men like Bud, she served with them, and unfortunately she was serving under another one.

The last time they had a talk was earlier in the month which was two weeks ago. In the beginning they talked often. Now, their fearless leader had had enough of what Godric's speeches of peace and he wanted action conducted under the unyielding banner of uncompromised principles.

"He's going to show up in his own good time because you asked him too," Tara pointed out, "does that sound like a man that can be reasoned with? For hope to be a human trait you're looking like it's poster boy in a cell hoping for what?"

"Change, and if not that then I can accept death."

Tara turned her head to the door with her back to it still, "I never heard of a vampire committing suicide before, doesn't seem like something you'd want to do since you can live forever."

"I'm repeating the day over and over," he shared with her in a tone of frustration in contrast to his usual level tone. "The same idiocy, the same indulgences, the same anger and prejudice and rage—from both sides," he sighed. "When I didn't know better, I acted like it, you wouldn't have recognized me, because you would have been dead on sight. If I were that same vampire uninterested then I would be no better than mindless beasts and unfortunately a large majority of my species. How can anyone learn if they aren't given an example first?"

"Too much credit," Tara chuckled to herself, "you've forgotten what it's like to be human. A lot of us aren't worried about evolving we just want to do what needs to be done and find a distraction or two, then we die."

From beyond the door Godric stared at the stone letting the words marinate.

"I'm not here for nothing," he reasoned.

"Of course you aren't," Tara shook her head smiling, "you're going to tell the monkey he can read and write when all the monkey wants is a banana."

It was understood Bud was the monkey and the destruction of all supernatural beings especially vampires was the banana. And after a pause, "what do you want out of life Tara?"

"Peace," she answered simply.

"I suppose that's why we get along," Godric replied from the other side.

"What'sthat?"

"We're both delusional on some level delusional. What are we doing here?" he mused aloud not expecting an answer and Tara entertained the question briefly then went to her post by the opening of a hallway that led to the rest of the cells. Someone was coming.

She rose from her seat standing at attention. Old habits died hard as she resisted the reflex to salute.

"Tara," Bud hit her on the shoulder, "how goes my favorite hermit?" he joked as the only one who genuinely enjoyed his own humor.

The dark skinned woman relayed the day's activities, while Bud looked over the basement fashioned into a jail thanks to an old friend who dealt with these sort of things. Much like everything that went on in the compound there were volunteers for every job. And while there were those who didn't live among them, they were just as adamant about the lifestyle as the most devote inhabitant showing Bud through favors and gifts that often coincided with their professions.

He was lucky to recognize Tara at a diner opting to pay her meal as a thanks to her service. Then they got into the discussion of where she was headed next in her life. He decided to take advantage of her indecision and show his world to her. He couldn't think of a specific moment that he saw her sympathize with the supernatural species. With her background her and aloofness she was a perfect addition to the lonely job looking after their 'trophies'. He expected no less than a good report from her and when she was finished he strode over to the door that held Godric.

"Vampire," he greeted when the door was opened.

He was the only vampire with no restraints and that was because he gave himself up willingly. He thought it was odd choice for the pale man to make, but he went along with it with precautions of his own just in case this was some trick.

"Bud," the pale vampire returned.

"You wanted to speak with me?" he angled his head impatiently.

"We haven't spoken for some time," he answered, "I was concerned about you're well being?"

Clicking his tongue he turned to his bodyguard, "you hear this he was worried about me," he turned back to Godric, "a human."

"We can both be beneficial to each other, but how will either of us ever know that potential if we don't communicate."

"Well I've got mouths to feed and a farm to run," he twirled his finger around to illustrate the vast responsibilities a man in his position has to deal with.

"I understand."

"I would love to talk more with you,' Bud rushed, "but I have things to do and if that's all?" his eyebrows hiked with one foot out the door he waited a split second then left as quickly as he had come.

Tara appeared in the opening of the cell door when Bud and his shadow left.

"Monkey and banana," shrugged.

Nodding his lowered head Godric placed his hands behind his back. There was nothing very interesting about the broken straw at his feet and still he stared at it as if it held the answers on how to reach this human's practical sense.


End file.
